


All Our Fault

by Larry_Klaine_Stylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larry_Klaine_Stylinson/pseuds/Larry_Klaine_Stylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys get into a fight and tell Louis they'd be better off without him, causing him to decide to go home to Doncaster and stay with his mum. When his car breaks down on the way, he runs in to trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Our Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a prompt fill on Tumblr.
> 
> Okay, so, apparently when you ask me for Louis to get tortured it turns out rather graphic and very sad and I don't know what dark corner of my brain this came from, but I'm sorry.
> 
> Rated M purely for violence, there is no smut.

The boys hadn't been getting along quite as cohesively recently, and people were starting to notice. They weren't smiling as much, weren't joking around with each other in interviews. There was just a lot of tension, and it was bringing Louis down. He didn't know what was wrong, or why all of the other boys were suddenly in foul moods ninety nine percent of the time. All he knew was that he wanted it to stop. Because he tried to be a happy, funny guy, and generally he was. But when the rest of the lads were constantly moping or fighting, it brought him down. It brought him down big time.

So he'd decided they should have a little party with just the five of them. Just to hang out and reconnect.

Zayn offered to have it at his place, and so here they all sat, in Zayn's living room, and no one was talking. No one was smiling. No one was eating snacks or having a drink or poking someone else in the face until they slapped their hand away and everyone laughed. Everyone was just sitting there, stoic, frowns in place on their faces.

"Alright, that's enough." Louis said. "What's got you four so upset all the time?"

No one replied. Just sat there, their gazes moving from straight ahead to down at the ground.

"Especially you, Niall." Louis said. "You used to be the happiest of the lot of us. What's happened?"

"You lot have changed." Niall said. "That's what's happened. And don't you dare look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about because you've changed, too, Lou. You're the worst of all."

Louis didn't feel like he'd changed. He never said mean things to the boys unless he was joking, and they all did that. He never hurt anyone, never did anything wrong. He was trying so hard to be the same guy he'd always been, but with the other four fighting all the time it was hard. He just wanted everyone to be happy. He just wanted them to be best friends like they'd always been. He and Harry hadn't been fighting with each other, but Harry and Liam had been getting into rather large spats lately and Harry would just grump around the house. He wouldn't talk to Louis about what was bothering him, and so Louis couldn't help. He wouldn't hold Louis anymore, and Louis was tired of it. He wouldn't let the boys ruin their friendship with each other and he certainly would let them ruin his relationship with Harry.

"I'm trying my best, Niall. But you lot are always-"

"Don't even try and spin this around on us." Niall said.

"What have I even done, Niall? I don't know what-"

"Just shut up, Louis!" Zayn hollered. "You can't fucking fix this. We need to just break up."

"We can't break up." Harry scoffed. "We can't disappoint everyone like that."

"We're disappointing them now, you idiot." Liam said. "They can tell we're not getting along."

"Don't talk to Harry like that!" Louis said, finally snapping and letting out the anger that had been building up inside him. "Don't you fucking dare call him an idiot!"

"See!" Niall yelled.

"See what, Niall? I'm defending my boyfriend. You lot have been out of line and I'm sick of it."

"It's because of you, Louis! We've all fucking been fighting because of you!" Zayn shouted.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Louis asked. He didn't feel any different. What could he possibly have done?

"I think we'd be better off if you left the band." Zayn said seriously. "We'd be better off if you were gone. For good."

Tears sprung to Louis' eyes as he looked at Zayn, one of his best mates, "Are you saying...?" Louis swallowed hard, wondering if Zayn was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting. That Louis should just off himself. Disappear. Leave them all alone for good.

He didn't understand. Just three months ago they'd been on their first world tour and everything had been fine.

"Yeah." Zayn nodded. "Just get out, Lou."

"Zayn, you can't....Harry, tell him...." No one was talking, everyone had gone back to just looking at the floor.

Louis couldn't take this. He couldn't take this anymore. None of the boys wanted him anymore. Harry didn't want him anymore.

He ran from the house, tears streaming down his face. He dialed his mother's number and listened as the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mum." Louis' voice cracked.

"Sweetie, are you crying?" Jay asked. "What's wrong, love?"

"The boys and I...We got in a fight." He said, not wanting to go into details over the phone. "Can I come home? Back to Doncaster? Just...Just for a while." He said, although he knew it would be more than a while. Maybe forever.

"Of course." Jay said. "You know you can come home whenever you want."

"Thanks, mum. I'll see you."

"Okay, Lou. Drive safe, yeah?"

Louis nodded before realizing his mother couldn't see him, "Mhhm. Bye."

"Bye."

Louis hung up the phone, wiping the tears from his face and hopping in his car. Tears continued to pour down his face as he drove to his and Harry's, where he ran inside, packed as much as he could in a few short minutes, and ran back out to his car, tossing his luggage in the trunk and heading off to Doncaster.

He'd been driving for a good hour, he was on a long back road with no civilization in sight, and suddenly, he heard a loud clunking sound. There was a clunking sound, and then the car began to make an odd squeaking sound, the gears grinding horribly. He stopped the car, not sure what to do, but knowing he couldn't keep driving. Not after that. He pulled out his phone, trying to think of someone to call. All he could think of was his mum. He could call his mum and ask her to find a number for a towing service. He dialed her number, and before it could connect and start ringing, his battery died.

"Fuck!" Louis yelled, clenching the phone tight in his hand. "Dammit!"

He got out of the car, walking around to the back of it and looking underneath. He'd never learned much about cars, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fix this on his own. He sat against the tire, his head in his hands, and he began to cry. He cried and he cried and his nose was running and his eyes were puffy and he couldn't be bothered to care because his whole life was falling apart. Everything was crumbling around him and he couldn't even make it home to his mum for a hug and a nice cuppa. He was stuck out here on a back road in the middle of nowhere with a busted car and no phone battery and no knowledge of cars.

He didn't know how long he was just sitting there, allowing himself to cry, but after a while, he heard a sound. He looked up quickly and saw a small car driving down the road. As it came towards him, it pulled over to the side. A rather tall man with large arms and a bald head got out of the car, coming over to Louis.

"Need help?"

Louis wiped at his eyes and nose with his hand, sniffling a bit, "Yeah, mate. My car's broken down, and I've got no clue what's wrong with it."

"I can have a look, if you like?"

"Yeah, please." Louis smiled, nodding.

He stepped to the side, allowing the man to take a look. The man inspected it, giving out little hums of disapproval, and Louis figured the car must be in pretty bad shape. The man stood up, and Louis looked to him, waiting for him to tell him what was wrong.

Before Louis knew it, however, the man had spun him around, wrapping one arm tightly around Louis' neck, and the other one around his waist. Louis began to scream loudly. Shriek might have been a better word for it, really. The man brought a hand up to his mouth, silencing him.

"Shut up." He said, as he dragged Louis the few feet to his car.

He picked him up with one arm so his feet were off the ground, and Louis began kicking wildly, trying to break free. The man reached into the car, grabbing rope which Louis expected he was going to use to tie him up. He wriggled violently, not knowing where he would go once he got free of the man's grasp, but knowing that he couldn't stay here. Couldn't let this man tie him up and take him away. He just needed to run.

He clawed at the man's arm, and the man picked up a large piece of something metal, and the last thing Louis remembers is a sharp pain in the side of his head, and then darkness.

000

When Louis woke up, he was in a dimly lit room. It was damp and smelled vaguely of mold. There was water dripping slowly from a pipe in the corner, and there was one light bulb, hanging from the ceiling, a chain there as well, which Louis assumed was used to turn the light on and off.

There was a set of wooden stairs with a door at the top, and he realized he must be in a basement. A very old, very poorly taken care of basement. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie.

He examined himself, seeing a bit of dried blood on his shirt, and he vaguely realized that it had come from his head, from the blow he'd received earlier. His head was pounding, and his hands were tied tightly behind his back, tied to the chair, so he was unable to move them. His ankles were tied tightly to each of the front two legs of the chair. He was hardly able to even wriggle an inch. There was tape covering his mouth; He tried to scream but it was muffled by the tape. He pulled frantically at his arms, trying to free himself. Part of him knew it was useless, but the rest of him knew he had to at least try. Try to break free of the ropes binding his arms.

After what felt like hours of wriggling and pulling and straining, he was exhausted. He knew there was no use in trying anymore. He slumped in his seat, his muscles tired and his mind even more exhausted. He didn't know what to do, or how to get out of this. Surely someone would notice he was missing and come looking for him, wouldn't they? But would they even be able to find him? He didn't know where he was. How long had he been knocked out? How many days had passed?

Suddenly, the door opened, and the man from before came down the steps slowly.

"Oh good." He said upon seeing Louis. "You're awake. Was beginning to think I'd managed to put you in a coma."

Louis wriggled around in his seat, glaring at the man with defiance.

The man walked over to him, ripping the tape from his mouth and Louis began to scream, "Shhh." The man said, running a finger slowly down his cheek. "Wouldn't want you to lose your voice."

"Why are you doing this?" Louis asked.

The man laughed, standing up and pulling a knife out of his back pocket. Louis' eyes went wide, focusing on the blade. The man ran his finger across it slowly, as if he was marveling in the feel of the cold metal across his skin.

The man raised the knife to Louis' face, cutting a small line down his left cheek.

Pain shot through Louis' system and he clenched his teeth, not wanting the man to know how much he was hurting him. Hoping that if he stayed strong, the other man would lose interest.

The man ran his finger over the wound in Louis' cheek, collecting the blood and examining it closely, "Lovely." He commented, before wiping in on Louis' shirt.

"What do you want from me?" Louis asked.

"Nothing." The man shrugged.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because it's fun. Because I like it. Because I'm bored. Because you were on that road alone." The man told him, his face getting closer and closer to Louis' with each word, until Louis could smell his putrid breath. "The reasons are endless."

"Just let me go and I'll give you whatever you want." Louis told him. "I'm...I'm rich, I can get you anything."

The man didn't seem to know who Louis was. Didn't seem to know that there would certainly be people looking for him, and soon.

The man laughed. A small chuckle at first, growing louder and louder, until he was throwing his head back and nearly cackling. Louis was truly frightened now. This man was absolutely one hundred percent insane, and Louis didn't think he'd be able to persuade him to let him go.

"There's nothing that I want." The man told him, pacing back and forth. "Nothing but to watch you fall apart. Nothing but to watch you bleed and shout and cry."

"Have you done this before?" Louis asked, wondering if the man had gotten away with it. Wondering if he should give up on being found.

"Maybe I have." The man said, bringing his knife up to Louis' uninjured cheek. "Maybe I haven't." He sliced a quick gash, and this one was deeper than the other, and Louis could feel the hot blood oozing out.

He then stood up, walking up the stairs and out of the room.

Louis waited until he was sure the man was gone to let himself cry, not wanting to give the man what he wanted. He'd stay strong. He wouldn't break.

000

Hours and hours and hours passed, and Louis wondered if maybe it had been night time and the man had gone to sleep.

Finally the door opened, and the man came down again. He was carrying a small bowl, filled with something that smelled unappealing.

"Time to eat." The man said, standing in front of Louis.

He took the spoon in his hand, ladling up a bit of whatever strange soup was in the bowl and bringing it up to Louis' mouth. He didn't want to eat, but he knew he should. Knew he needed to keep his strength up if he wanted to make it through this. So he let the man feed him, eating everything in the bowl. It was rather nasty, but Louis was hungry, and so he ate. He just hoped it wouldn't make him ill.

When Louis was done eating, the man left again, going up the stairs, and then Louis heard running water, and he wondered if the man was doing the dishes.

He wished he knew what time of day it was, or even what day it was, but he had no sense of time in this basement. No light to tell if it was morning or night.

The man came back several hours later, an electric razor in his hand. Louis was confused. What was he planning to do with that?

"Your hair's getting in my way." He said, eying Louis disapprovingly. "It's got to go."

Louis sat there, his eyes shut tight as the man shaved every last lock of hair from his head. When he was finished, he grabbed a mirror, shoving it in front of Louis' face and forcing him to look. He was bald, he had two wounds on his face, one on each cheek. And one side of his head had a large bump, covered in blood from when the man had knocked him out. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy, his lips were chapped, and he couldn't keep looking at himself like this. Didn't want to see himself like this.

He turned his head away, and the man slapped him in the face hard. It hurt more than it would have if there hadn't been a wound there as well, and Louis howled softly. The man chuckled, grabbing up his tools and heading back upstairs.

Louis sat there all alone, shivering slightly, the basement feeling even colder with his lack of hair. All he wanted was for someone to come save him. All he wanted was to be able to see the lads again and apologize for whatever he'd done and hug them all tightly and kiss Harry, and to go home and see his mum and sisters and let them know how much he loved them. He just wanted to get out of there.

He cried and cried, and when he thought he had no tears left he cried some more. And eventually he fell asleep.

000

Four days had passed, and Harry was starting to feel bad about everything. He honestly didn't know why any of them had started fighting, just that once it had started, he didn't seem to be able to stop it. He figured working with the same boys for so long, there was bound to be some tension, and that it'd work itself out. Which it had. Two days after Louis had stormed out they'd all gone to each other and everyone had cried and apologized and hugged each other and promised to never get so out of hand again.

Louis hadn't been at his and Harry's home yet at that point, and Harry had assumed he'd gone home to Jay. He didn't want to bother him there yet. Wanted to give him a bit of time to cool down, and then he'd ring him and apologize and tell him how sorry all the boys were. They'd all just been stressed and tired over the past few months and the job had taken its toll on all of them, and they were still young. They couldn't be expected to handle everything so maturely all the time. It was only natural for them to reach a breaking point, and the past few months had been that breaking point. But they'd fixed it. Everything was fixed now and they just needed to wait for Louis to come back and they'd hug him and Harry would kiss him and everything would be fine.

000

Louis didn't know how many days he'd been there, all he knew was that the man was keeping him bald, and he had small cuts covering his cheeks and the top of his head.

The man came down the steps, and Louis put on his brave face, as he did every time. The man had a pair of scissors in his hand, and he cut Louis' shirt off, leaving his torso bare and freezing cold in the damp basement.

The man then grabbed a rather large kitchen knife off a table he'd set up a few hours ago, on which he had placed various sharp items that Louis had to stop himself from looking at, because he didn't want to give himself ideas as to what the man might do to him. He'd rather stay oblivious.

The man took the knife and cut a large heart shape above Louis' real heart. He laughed as the blood trickled down Louis' skin.

"Thought you might like that." He told him. "Rather lovely, don't you think?"

Louis didn't respond, just held his head up high, not letting his eyes drift down to his torso.

The man walked back over to the table, grabbing a pair of pliers. Louis absolutely did not want to know what he was going to do with those.

"To answer your question from the first day." He said, looking Louis directly in the eyes as he approached him again. "I've never done this to humans before, no. You're my first one. My test subject, if you will. Got to see what I like best." He laughed. "We're going to move on from knives a bit now. But who knows, we might come back to that." He shrugged nonchalantly.

He took the pliers, clasping one of Louis' fingernails in its tight hold, and then yanking roughly, pulling Louis' fingernail right off. Louis bit his lip so hard that it began to bleed, the metallic taste filling his mouth, not wanting to scream out in agony, not wanting this man to get what he wanted.

"Hmm. That's nice." The man hummed.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut as the man picked up his left hand, examining his now bare pinky finger. He ran his thumb gently over the flesh that was once covered by nail, and Louis let out a soft whimper, the pain almost unbearable.

The man stood up, "Time for my afternoon tea. We'll finish that up later."

The man walked upstairs, and Louis soaked in the fact that it was afternoon. Tried to keep track of the passing time so he would be able to have a rough estimate of the time at any given point.

000

After seven days with no word from Louis, Harry began to get worried and decided to call him, just to check if he was alright at Jay's and let him know that everyone was sorry and they wanted him back.

He dialed Louis' cell phone number, but it went straight to voicemail. Harry just assumed he'd forgotten to put it on the charger again. That twat. Harry didn't know how he did it. He had to keep his phone constantly charged.

He dialed Jay's number, and she picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jay." Harry greeted. "Lou with you?"

"No." Jay said, sounding perplexed. "I thought he was with you. He called crying about a week ago and said he wanted to come for a visit. That he and you lads had gotten into a fight? I just assumed you'd all worked it out and he decided to stay."

"No." Harry shook his head. "The rest of the lads and I worked everything out, but Louis was already gone." He informed her. "He...He never came home?"

"No." Jay sounded concerned now.

"Alright. Thanks, Jay. I'll call the rest of the lads."

"Keep me updated, will you, Harry?"

"Of course."

Harry hung up, dialing Zayn, Liam and Niall in turn, none of them having heard from Louis, all having assumed he'd needed a bit of time to cool down from the fight. They'd all been pretty awful to him. For a split second Zayn had worried that Louis had gone off and killed himself, but Harry assured him that he wouldn't do that. Not ever.

He called Jay back and told her what was going on, and she decided to file a missing person's report. Harry told her where they had been the day that he left, and any other details that might be important for the police to know to be able to find him.

Harry just hoped he was alright.

000

What felt like about an hour to Louis passed, and then the man was downstairs again, a cup of tea for Louis in his hands, as well as a biscuit. Louis felt ill, blood loss and pain causing his stomach to twist up in sickening knots. But he knew he needed to eat, and maybe the tea would help. He let the man feed him, as he'd done once or twice a day for however long Louis had been there.

The man then walked over to his table of tools and picked up the pliers again, coming over to Louis and grabbing his hand, leaning down to inspect it closely as he ripped Louis' fingernails off slowly, one by one. By the time he'd moved on to Louis' second hand, he was getting woozy, the pain too much for him to handle. As he ripped off the nail of his middle finger it snagged a bit, his skin ripping harshly, and the surge of pain that went through his body was the last thing that Louis remembered.

000

A day passed and the police were looking, but they'd found no sign of him.

Harry and Jay were looking around their respective towns, checking all of Louis' favorite places and local hotels that he might have gone to just to get away. They prayed that that was all this was. Just Louis wanting to get away and get some alone time. They assured the rest of the lads and Louis' sisters that that was all it was. But when Harry and Jay were on the phone, just the two of them in on the conversation, they both expressed the feelings of dread in the pit of their stomach. The feeling that something was horribly wrong.

000

When Louis awoke, the man was breathing deeply, examining the tools on his table.

"You were out for a good day or so." The man said. "I took the liberty of giving you some pretty new pieces of my masterpiece to look at when you woke up."

Louis noticed the dull throbbing ache in his abdomen and looked down to find a few artfully done swirly patterned gashes in his stomach. He tried to stop the tears in his eyes, but they made their way down his cheeks despite his protests.

"There are those lovely tears." The man said, coming over to Louis and wiping a tear away from his cheek with his thumb before licking the tear off, reveling in the taste. "I'd been missing those."

Louis jerked his head away, and the man got angry, gripping his face roughly between his hands and turning it back to face him. Louis gritted his teeth, staring the man in the face before spitting at him.

The man's hand slammed against Louis' face forcefully with a resounding 'swap!', "Don't you dare spit at me!" He hollered.

He stormed over to his table of sharp tools and looked around before picking up a long knife with a large blade, obviously used for cutting meat. He brought it over and cut a deep gash along Louis' arm, making sure not to place it somewhere where Louis would bleed out, but just wanting to cause him much discomfort and watch the blood ooze out as well. Louis noted that that seemed to be his favorite. Watching the blood oozing. It seemed almost calming to the man.

Louis wished he could just stop his blood flow. Just stop the red liquid from oozing from his wounds. He didn't want to give this man what he wanted.

"Now." The man said, standing up. "I thought we'd try something new today.

He walked over to his table, grabbing a set of long needles. He brought them back over to Louis, cutting off his right pant leg from the thigh down. He then took his time, pushing each needle deep into his flesh. Louis bit his lip hard, holding back his cries of pain. There were twenty five needles, and he put them in slowly, carefully, pushing on them until they were in just as deep as he wanted them, and then letting out a small sigh of relief. When he was done, he sat there on the ground in front of Louis, admiring his work.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut, just trying to even out his breathing from the erratic pace it had managed to reach. After a few moments of the man just sitting there, Louis felt the needles slowly being removed from his leg. His eyes shot open, and he looked down to see the man pulling each needle out carefully, examining each one. He lined them all up on a white sheet of paper, and Louis wondered if he was making himself some sort of art work. Something for him to hang in his home to remind him of his first time torturing a human. Something to remind him of Louis once he was dead and buried, nothing but a mess of torn flesh and blood.

"Haven't you done enough?" He asked the man, as he pulled then tenth needle from his leg.

"Still trying to fight back, I see." The man said. "Then no, I haven't."

He wanted him to give in. He wanted Louis to completely give in and except defeat. But Louis wasn't going to do that. Not until he was too weak to keep his head up, and maybe not even then. He was going to fight until there was nothing left to fight for. He was going to make it out of here, or die with a little bit of hope in his heart. That was just how it was going to be, and if this guy didn't like it, then he was out of luck.

"I'll never stop fighting back." Louis said. "I'm stronger than you."

"We'll see about that." The man said, walking behind Louis and taking one of his fingers from where his hands were tied behind his back, grasping his pointer finger tightly and snapping it. Louis let out a short wail of pain before he could stop himself, and he figured there was no use in telling the man that he had meant mentally. He was mentally stronger than this man. That was apparent to Louis. Because no one who had a strong mind would stoop to this level. Louis could beat him. He had to beat him.

000

It was on day eleven after Louis had disappeared that Niall had ended up finding his car, broken down on a dirt road on the way to Doncaster. He'd called Harry who had called Jay who had called the police. They'd come to investigate, but it had been no help.

That was it now, though. That was the end of pretending things might be okay. Louis was missing, and they had no clue where he might be.

000

A few more days had passed, and Louis didn't know quite how long it had been. His head was feeling constantly fuzzy, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold out.

The man hadn't done anything more after he'd finished removing the needles. He'd still come down. He'd stare at Louis intently and he'd look through his tools, and Louis could tell that he was planning something. Something big. Louis didn't know what it might be, but he knew he couldn't sit around and wait for it.

So that night, when the man went upstairs after staring at Louis for a few hours straight, and Louis heard all movement cease above him, he decided he was getting the hell out of there. He'd make it up the steps and he'd run. He'd just run.

He kicked his legs repeatedly with as much force as he had, and the chair threatened to tip over multiple times, but Louis wasn't giving up. Finally he broke the chair legs, and he fell to the ground for a moment, the chair tipping forward as its front legs broke. But then he was mustering up every last bit of strength he had, lifting himself from the ground, the chair legs still tied to his own, and his arms still tied together against the back of the chair. But at least now he could move. Now he could get away.

He made his way up the steps as quickly and quietly as he could, opening the door slowly and peeking out into the house that he'd been stuck under for God knows how long. He tip toed out, listening closely for any signs of the man in the near vicinity. He walked slowly, and then he made a run for it. He tripped over a cord that he hadn't seen in his haste and fell to the ground with a crash. The man heard, running from his room and finding Louis lying there, the chair broken to bits.

Louis scrambled to his feet again, trying to run, but the man hit him in the side of the head with a lamp before he could make it more than a foot, and everything went black.

000

When Louis woke up, he was outside. Bright sun was shining down on him, and his entire body hurt. Gravel filled the wounds on his face and torso and flies were gathering around his body. He wondered if he smelled dead to them. He was thirsty and hot and tired and his body ached. He tried to move, but was unable to even lift a finger, no strength left in him. He'd been fighting for so long.

Louis wondered for a moment if the man had thought he was dead, and this was his way of disposing of the body. Louis thought he might be on the side of a very unused road or something, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and look around.

He smiled a little, the sun, although too hot now, was a lovely change from the cold damp basement, and Louis thought that if he had to die, he was glad he was here instead of with that man.

He let himself drift off into blackness again.

000

Two weeks after Louis' disappearance, Jay got a call. She'd come down to stay at Harry's with him, neither of them wanting to be alone. She'd hired someone to watch the girls for her, against their protests that they didn't need a babysitter.

"Harry." She said. "They've found someone who fits Louis' description. He's in bad shape, but he's breathing. They're taking him to a hospital about forty minutes from here."

"Oh, god." Harry said, covering his mouth as tears sprang to his eyes.

"I'm good to drive." Jay assured him. "You call the boys and tell them we're picking them up in ten. I'm sure they'll want to be there."

000

The rest of the lads were gathered at Zayn's. Had been since the day they'd found Louis' car. When Harry and Jay arrived, the three lads climbed into the back and they all sped off to the hospital. Upon arrival, Jay was asked to come back and identify the body before they could perform any tests or surgeries. They needed to know who this was.

She gave Harry a hug and left the four boys alone in the waiting room. Harry wondered how long it would be until she came back. Whether it really was Louis they'd found. Whether he'd be alright. He wondered when he'd be allowed back to see him. If he'd get a chance to apologize. If he'd ever get to hold him again.

He slumped down into a chair and began to cry, harsh sobs wracking his whole body. The other lads surrounded him, holding him close and comforting him as well as they could through tears of their own.

At least an hour passed before Jay came out, "It's Louis." She nodded, as she began to sob. "It's my baby."

She fell to her knees, and Harry rushed over to her, pulling himself together long enough to pull her from the floor, setting her in a chair and sitting down next to her. He let her cry for a while, just held her hand tightly in his and let her cry as he cried, the rest of the lads huddle together a few chairs over, not wanting to crowd her.

After a while, Harry couldn't wait, he had to ask, "How bad is it, Jay?"

"He looked awful, Harry. He was just...There was so much blood. So many cuts and bruises." She shook her head, covering her mouth with her free hand.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"They don't know. He's dehydrated and he lost a lot of blood. So much blood." She shook her head. "They don't know what kind of infections he might have gotten or...They just don't know." Jay said, crying hard again.

"It's okay, Jay. We're here for each other." Harry whispered, hugging Jay close.

The boys were all close with each other's mother's obviously, but Harry and Jay had a special bond. Jay was Louis' mum, and Harry loved Louis, and Jay loved Louis and Harry together.

They cried together for hours, until eventually falling asleep holding each other close, the other three lads having fallen asleep on each other hours ago.

When Harry woke up, it was to the sound of a doctor shaking Jay awake next to him. He sat up quickly as Jay came to and they both listened to the doctor intently.

"He's out of surgery and we've done quite a few tests. He's in bad shape. He'll be covered in scars, and there's likely a lot of emotional damage as well. We won't be able to know until he wakes up, but I'm fairly certain he'll need weekly therapy sessions."

Jay nodded, "You're welcome to come back to his room now, miss." The doctor told her.

"I'm bringing Harry, and those three lads." She pointed to Liam, Zayn and Niall.

"Family only, ma'am."

"They are family." Jay insisted. "They're coming back with me."

The doctor sighed, but nodded.

The five of them followed the doctor to Louis' room, and Harry walked in slowly, nervous about seeing his boyfriend like this.

He was covered in bandages and small cuts lined his face, stitches were everywhere, and Harry just wanted to take off his hospital gown and take in all the damage. He wanted to know everything that had happened. His eyes trailed up from Louis' face, and he saw that all his hair was gone. Tears sprang to his eyes, streaming swiftly down his cheeks. Jay held his hand tight, crying silently to herself. The rest of the lads came up behind them, hugging them tightly, and they all stood in the middle of the room, crying and holding each other tight.

They pulled up chairs and surrounded Louis' bed, looking at him, his eyes shut peacefully as he slept.

They sat there for hours upon hours and finally something in Harry snapped. He stood up, looking around at the other three boys angrily, "This is our fault!" He bellowed.

Everyone in the room, aside from Louis, stared at him in shock.

"This is all our fault, you fucking twats!" He began to cry as he screamed. "We just kept fighting. We wouldn't stop fighting and we told Louis to go! We told him to go and he went and then what happened?! I don't even know how he ended up here! I don't know why he's so torn up or why his hair's gone! I don't know what's happened to him but I know I can't make him better. He didn't have to end up like this. We didn't have to make him hurt like this." Harry cried.

Jay stood up, wrapping Harry in her arms, "You can't blame yourself, Harry."

"I'm not." Harry said. "I'm blaming all of them. All of them and myself. Because it's our fucking fault. IT'S OUR FAULT!"

"He's right." Zayn said, tears trickling down his cheeks."I told him to go. I told him we didn't want him anymore."

"I yelled at him." Niall said, sniffling and wiping his eyes with his shirt.

"We could've stopped this." Liam shook his head.

Harry wriggled his way out of Jay's arms, going over to the boys and hugging them tightly despite the fact that he wanted to slap them.

"I'm so sorry." They all muttered to each other, a jumble of apologies, none of them knowing who they were really apologizing to or why.

"You boys can blame yourselves if you have to." Jay said. "But just know that I don't blame you."

"Thank you." Harry muttered.

000

The lot of them spent the next three days in the hospital, only leaving the room for coffee and tea and bathroom breaks, never once sleeping, not wanting to miss the moment Louis woke up.

Harry and Jay were each holding one of Louis' hands. They'd winced the first time they'd seen them, noticing his missing fingernails.

They were all sitting there, silent, and Harry noticed Louis' eyelids flutter, "Louis?" He asked softly, and Louis' hand twitched in his. "Louis?"

Louis eyes flickered open, "Harry." He said, voice hoarse. "Mum." He smiled. "Everyone." Tears sprang to his eyes.

"Louis, I'm so sorry." Harry said.

"We're all sorry. We all made up, and we wanted to apologize to you as well, but you were gone. Where'd you go, Louis?" Liam asked.

"Was on my way to mum's. There was...A man." Louis took a deep breath. "My car broke, and he said he could help but then...Then he took me and I...And he cut me all up and he was just doing it for fun. He didn't want anything from me. He just...Just wanted to hurt me and I-" Louis stopped talking abruptly as a sob wracked his body.

Tears were flowing from Harry's eyes now, "How could someone do that to you?" He whispered.

"Sweetie, I'm going to go get the police on the phone. They'll want to come in and talk to you." Jay said.

Louis nodded, and Jay left the room for a moment.

"Louis, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."

"Don't you dare blame yourself, Harry. Don't any of you blame yourselves." Louis said.

"But if you hadn't been on the road-" Niall was cut off by Louis.

"But I was on the road. I was on the road because I drove there. You didn't drive me there and leave me waiting for that man. I drove there, I got out of the car, I spoke to him. It's not your fault. Not any of you."

"We're so sorry this happened to you, Louis." Zayn said, taking Louis' hand in his.

"Hey, Harry?" Louis asked.

"Yeah, Lou?"

"Will you still love me even while my hair's growing back?"

"Of course I will." Harry said, hurt that Louis would even ask.

"Will you still love me even once the wounds heal and I'm covered in dozens and dozens of these awful scars?"

"Lou, why do you even feel the need to ask? You know I will."

Louis nodded, and all the boys were crying now.

Jay came back in the room, "The police are on their way.

000

Three years later and Louis' attacker had been behind bars for two years and eleven months now.

Louis had stopped going to therapy sessions three weeks ago, and with the help of his mum, the lads, and mostly Harry, he was doing just fine.

He and Harry were lying in bed, drifting off to sleep, and Harry was tracing his fingers over the heart shaped scar on Louis' chest.

"You know, Lou." Harry said.

"What?" Louis asked, bringing his hand up to run it gently through Harry's curls.

"I think he made a mistake giving you this one. Because now every time I run my fingers over it, it's just a reminder of how much I love you, and how much I'll always love you no matter what."

And Louis knew that that was true, because his face was covered in scars, and he was hardly the person he used to be, physically. But mentally he was still the same old Louis, and that was all that mattered to Harry.

"I love you so much." Louis whispered, clasping Harry's hand that was running gently along the scar.

"I love you, too."


End file.
